STACY
The gas doesn’t affect us. And that’s not an accident. Jason may only be able to funnel energy into his weapons, but he can still control the energy once he uses it. He’s purposely limiting the radius of the gas. It's not a flashy technique, but it's effective. And it takes a lot of precision and discipline to pull it off. It would be a mistake to underestimate him.
On the platform, Plumley stumbles around, barely able to see. Suddenly, there is a loud, cracking noise that echoes throughout the arena. Plumley freezes in his tracks. He looks down at his chest. Green liquid is oozing out of a small hole underneath his left pectoral muscle.
Clutching the wound with his hands, Plumley drops to his knees and falls unconscious, splashing into a puddle of green slime.
The fog clears. Jason is standing over Plumley, staring down at his work. His shotgun is slung over his shoulder. Faint traces of smoke float out of the barrel.
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